


Coming Home

by ackermom



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Episode: s04e08 Haus 2.0, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, and some creative liberties regarding bitty's opinion of dunkin, haus 2.0, this is just cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-19 12:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17001852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackermom/pseuds/ackermom
Summary: Jack nestles into his pillow. “Haus 2.0, though.”Bitty smiles. “It’s something, isn’t it?”





	1. the night of

**Author's Note:**

> a two-parter about the night + morning after haus 2.0, originally posted to tumblr.

They clean up their wine glasses sometime after midnight, and by one, the house is quiet again. That’s early for them and the way they used to party. But life after college is different. Shitty got drunk off two glasses of a cheap red from the grocery store, and the others weren’t too far behind. Bitty’s the only one still lucid when they say their goodnights, and by the time he washes his face, changes into his pajamas, and sends a few texts warning his team that the Haus better be in one piece tomorrow when he gets back, he’s sure that everyone else has fallen asleep. 

Jack is drifting off when Bitty pads back to the living room, his socks soft on the old wooden floors. He’s propped up on Ransom and Holster’s pullout couch, the one they heisted from their last roommates; it may not have as many stains as a certain green sofa, but Bitty’s glad he brought some clean sheets to sleep on. There’s no telling what’s happened between these cushions.

He steps into the living room quietly and slides the door shut behind himself, then heads for the makeshift bed. Jack’s got one arm thrown along the back of the couch, his head tilted to the ceiling as his eyelashes flutter gently. Bitty realizes, smiling to himself, that Jack hasn’t moved at all since Bitty left ten minutes ago. 

The floor squeaks under Bitty’s feet as he crosses the room.

Jack stirs. “Bits?”

“Hey, honey. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Jack’s eyes flutter open for a moment, his gaze catching on Bitty in the dim room. He hums; then he scoots down to lie on the bed, dragging a pillow with him, and holds out a lazy hand for Bitty.

“C’mere,” he mutters. 

“I’m on my way,” Bitty says from the corner of the room. He flicks off the last lamp, then fumbles towards the bed in the darkness, reaching out his hands until he bumps into the end of the couch. “Oof. I’m here.”

He hears Jack’s soft laugh (from the other side of the wall, he hears Lardo giggling; she’ll owe him a very long conversation tomorrow morning, but for now, his heart is just full). Bitty clambers into the bed beside him, the frame of the sofa creaking under his movements. Jack’s hands find him instantly, tugging him close, and then Bitty is lying next to him, face to face, their arms draped comfortably across each other.

“You had a few glasses of wine, huh,” Bitty says. He smirks, even though he knows Jack can’t see; then he hisses when Jack’s cold feet press themselves against his legs. 

“You had more than a few, eh? And you’re fine.”

“I still have my tolerance,” Bitty says. He throws a leg over Jack’s knee to escape icy feet. “I do live in a frat house, after all.”

“That’ll change,” Jack says, yawning. “You’ll be kissing the ice at Faber before you know it.”

Bitty says nothing, just paws a hand into the folds of Jack’s shirt and holds on tight, because it’s true, but that doesn’t mean he has to think about it tonight.

Jack nestles into his pillow. “Haus 2.0, though.”

Bitty smiles. “It’s something, isn’t it?”

“It makes me miss college,” Jack murmurs. “Makes me wish we’d been together back then.”

“Oh, honey.”

Jack opens his eyes, a shining blue in the dark room. “Makes me wish I’d kissed you sooner.”

“Oh,” Bitty says, his voice very small.

Jack blinks at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” Bitty says, pressing his hand against Jack’s chest. “Just- honey, it’s been such a good night. I don’t want to ruin anything.”

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” Bitty repeats. “It’s just that this is all perfect, you know? All of our friends here, and Lardo and Shitty. You know. Not everybody gets this.”

Jack watches him in the darkness, studying his face. “Okay. Uh, and…?”

“I don’t know if we would have gotten this,” Bitty says softly. “It was perfect for us, the way everything’s worked out. I mean, it wasn’t  _perfect_ , but I just worry, if we’d been together sooner, I don’t know- it’s just, so many couples break up after college, so you know, what if we’d been together and then…”

“I wouldn’t have broken up with you,” Jack says instantly.

Bitty rolls his eyes. “You can’t know that.”

“Maybe not. But I like to think so.”

“Maybe I’d have broken up with you,” Bitty says. He frowns. “Oh, honey, no, I would never-”

“You, break up with this face? Bittle, please, how could you.”

“Jack,” Bitty murmurs through a laugh. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

“I’m just not sure,” Bitty continues, scooting closer to Jack, “that we’d ever have what we have now, in any other universe. And I can’t imagine not having this.”

Jack moves suddenly, wrapping one arm tightly around Bitty’s waist, drawing their chests together, their faces closer.

“I think,” he whispers, “that we’d have found our way to each other, in any universe.”

Bitty tries not to whimper at such a declaration; but then Jack kisses him and he can’t help it anymore, drawing a hand up Jack’s arm until he’s gripping his shoulder, fabric of his shirt twisting in Bitty’s hand as they kiss. Jack’s hand eases on his waist, eventually, and they fall apart, each breathing a little harder than they should be from just one kiss.

“You had more wine than I thought,” Bitty murmurs, touching his lips.

Jack grins. “Who says I can’t be passionate  _and_ sober?”

“That wasn’t just passionate. That was kind of dirty.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Jack, our friends are in the next room.”

“What do you think they’re doing in there, eh?”

“ _Lord_.”

“You know they’ve all put bets on whether we’ll have sex on their couch?”

“Stop it, oh my god.”

He rolls onto his back, feigning annoyance, but suddenly Jack is pressing up against him, and then they’re spooning, cold hands sneaking up under his shirt to tickle his stomach, and Bitty can’t hold his giggle in anymore.

“Honey, I  _swear_ …”

“Just think of it like this, Bits,” Jack murmurs in his ear. “Maybe we weren’t together then, but we are now. And we have this house, where we can come when we’re tired of pretending to be adults. So, in a way, things haven’t changed that much.”

There’s an outburst of laughter then, coming up the stairwell from the basement. Jack starts at the noise, and Bitty smiles. Not everyone’s asleep, after all.

“No,” Bitty sighs, settling Jack’s hands warmly across his stomach. “I guess things haven’t really changed that much.”


	2. the morning after

Bitty comes to in a slow sweat.

“Jack,” he groans, but not the sexy kind, because he’s got a boyfriend and two fleece blankets draped over him, pinning him to the thin mattress of the pullout couch, and he’s  _sweating_. Lord help him, he wore sweatpants to bed because Shitty’d said they wouldn’t pay for heat until their fingertips froze off. But he wakes drenched, a bit feverish, and moans uselessly as Jack shifts in his sleep, head tucked under Bittle’s chin, legs cocooned around him.

He manages to kick the blankets off, or at least more onto Jack, who grumbles something in his sleep. Bitty pats him on the head, yawning, and feebly reaches for his phone, which sits forlorn on the other side of the bed. It’s no use. He sighs and lets his fingers settle for running through Jack’s bedhead.

There’s a knock then, a muttered “yeah?” from Bitty, and the living room door slides open, getting stuck in its track once or twice as Lardo tries to shove it open with her foot, her hands full. She swears, kicks it harder, and skids into the room as the sliding door hits its frame and ricochets back towards her.

“Hey,” Lardo says when she sees them. “How are we feeling about breakfast?”

Bitty lets his eyes fall shut again as she putters towards the couch, her slipper socks padding on the floor.

“Mm,” he mutters. “What time is it?”

“Just after nine. Is he still asleep?”

Bitty cracks his eyes open and glances down at Jack, who’s actually drooling into Bitty’s tee-shirt. Bitty stuffs his face into Jack’s messed hair and breathes.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I think losing at wine pong wore him out.”

“Ha. He sucked ass.”

Bitty holds back a yawn. “I don’t suppose y’all have anything to bake with? Muffin tins?”

“Dude, we don’t even have flour.”

Something clinks on the end table, and Bitty glances up to see Lardo setting down a pair of steaming mugs. She pushes one closer to Bitty, then grabs one for herself and takes a small sip.

“I can’t believe you didn’t bring any of your own supplies,” she says when she swallows.

Bitty hums. “Preventative measures were taken.”

“Jack kidnapped you.”

“He abducted me into his car immediately after I got out of class yesterday. I didn’t even have time to take my books home. I had a whole bundt cake cooling at the Haus and he wouldn’t let me go back to get it for y’all.”

“You brought us, like, six cakes.”

“It would have been seven.”

Lardo holds her mug carefully and settles back into the armchair in the corner of the room, curling her feet up under herself. “Don’t worry. The boys should be back from their Dunkin run soon.”

“You’re feeding me processed baked goods for breakfast?”

“This is Massachusetts.”

Bitty grumbles. He thinks about reaching for the coffee that Lardo’s brought him, but he’s still got 200 pounds of boy wrapped around his body. Instead, he lets out a big yawn and shuffles to be a little more upright against the pillows, running his fingernails gently across Jack’s back.

“They’re bringing coffee too,” Lardo says, eyeing him. “One of those big jug things.”

“Uh-huh.”

She smiles over the lip of her mug. “You don’t have to drink any.”

Bitty smiles back. “Mm, thank you.”

“Just don’t tell Shitty.  _I’m_ allowed to dislike Dunkin coffee, but he might have a conniption if he finds out you’ve been lying to him this whole time.”

“It’s just not good coffee,” Bitty whispers.

The house creaks.

Lardo narrows her eyes. “Not so loud.”

Bitty settles his arms around the sleeping Jack. “So, about Shitty...”

He smirks because he  _swears_ Lardo blushes.

“Shut up,” she says, curling closer in her chair, but she’s still smiling. “I mean, everyone already knew about us, basically. You totally knew.”

Bitty shrugs as much as he can with Jack’s head buried against his shoulder. “I figured I’d let y’all come out when you were ready.”

“ _Ha_. Well, Ransom and Holster were surprised, actually. They were convinced that we were just ‘roomies’ until they had to help us move our double bed in. They tried to fine us at first, but we just kept having louder sex and eventually they stopped.”

“Oh, Lord,” Bitty mutters, glancing down. Jack’s beginning to shift in his arms, slowly rousing from a wine-induced slumber. He brushes a hand across Jack’s hair, trying to make it lie flat. “It’s good, though. You’re happy, right?”

Lardo doesn’t answer right away, and when Bitty looks up, she’s curled comfortably in her armchair, hot coffee mug held close to her lips, and she’s watching him comb Jack with a contented smile on her face, her eyes shining with warm light.

“Yeah,” Lardo says softly. “I’m happy.”

Jack stirs, and Bitty presses a kiss to his forehead.

“Good,” he says, glancing back to Lardo. “That’s what matters.”

There’s a sudden exclamation of noise from across the hall, the shuffle of wet boots and plastic bags before the wind pulls the front door shut with a  _slam_ , and Jack bursts upright in the bed as Holster bellows through the house, “ _Who wants coffee!?_ _”_

“What,” Jack mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

Bitty rubs his back. “Mornin’, sugar. The boys brought us breakfast.”

“Couldn’t be bothered to bake this morning, eh, Bittle?”

Lardo snickers from the corner, and Jack blinks wearily in her direction for a moment before raising a limp hand in a good morning wave as Bitty frowns at him.

“It would be rude to intrude on our friends’ kitchen like that,” Bitty says. He reaches to the end table and grabs his coffee mug, taking in the warm scent (mm, peppermint mocha creamer, Lardo did him right). “I would never.”

“He already asked me about baking supplies,” Lardo says.

Jack chuckles, casting the fleece blankets off his legs. He shifts up on the bed, curls an arm around Bitty’s stomach and lays his head down again, a warm weight on Bitty’s chest as he tries to enjoy his coffee.

“You are not going back to sleep, mister,” Bitty says, even as he wraps his arm around Jack’s shoulders. “We’ve got to drive back this afternoon.”

“Just a little longer,” Jack murmurs as he closes his eyes.

Lardo rises slowly from her chair, pausing to pull up her fuzzy socks before she takes another sip of hot coffee and heads for the door. 

“I’ll leave you guys alone for a bit,” she says on her way out. “Don’t take too long or you might be force fed some crullers.”

“Save me a glazed donut,” Bitty calls after her as Jack settles into him. “I hope they got something with protein for this boy."

Lardo smiles as she pulls the door shut. “I’m sure they did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [holster](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bpA6fAz_r04)


End file.
